Knife and Leaf
by Victoria Yukimura
Summary: He has a choice. To go back and become the crown prince of Mirkwood, the Morning Star of Arda before he was captured. Or take up the title of Sauron's Lieutanent, one of the most feared beings in all of Middle Earth, to kill and burn for Sauron because he doesn't have a choice. Will he choose Legolas Thranduilion or forever become Agarlas Sardothien.
1. Chapter 1: Lost Star

**Warning: **Confusing words. Maybe OOC of a lot of people. Bad-ass Legolas killing people left right and center. May contain traces of: a lot of blood, traces of Sindarin, irregular updates, idiotic author notes, confusing plot lines. Major spoilers from The Two Towers on-wards.

**Disclaimers see author's profile page.**

* * *

_"Where are you Legolas? Come out, this isn't amusing anymore!"_

_"Enough is enough Legolas, return home this instant."_

_"He isn't here."_

_"But where could he be?"_

_"Ada, Lord Thranduil, we found something!"_

_"This is..."_

_"Blood."_

_"Whose?"_

_"Orcs. Spiders. Oh by the Valar!"_

_"Elfish blood. Look at the silver tint."_

_"Do you think...?"_

_"LEGOLAS!"_

_"For the love of Valar, they have to come now don't they."_

_"What do we have here? Four elves all alone in the woods?"_

_"What have you done to Legolas."_

_"That elf earlier? Nothing. Master wants a little word with him. Something about hope and stars."_

_"Morning..."_

_"Thranduil? What is it?"_

_"What's wrong elf? Shocked that one of your race are gone? There's nothing for it, you're never going to see him again. 'Sides what do you need him anyway, one less of you won't make much of a difference."_

_"My Lord?"_

_"Be silent."_

_"Thranduil?"_

_"I don't care if I have to turn Arda upside down, I will get my son back. Mark my words."_

* * *

Some says the fate and the future are the same things, just spelt differently. Others says that they are two complete different things, intertwined at some point, but altogether separate. They are the two things we all tried to look for, or fight to change. One says that our futures are not set in stone; our fate will change as we move towards our future, changing it in the process. Another says that our fates will never fade; only hidden as we search to change the future we may have seen.

Fate is something clouded, hidden. Only blindingly charging into your future, and to your fate, can find it. Some futures are always changing as you move forward, but others, are set.

This is a story.

A dangerous story. A prophecy. A future, that is set.

It began after the dark lord Sauron is defeated and the One Ring is forgotten. The Last Alliance between elves and men are finished, lost. The wood-elves of Greenwood the Great retreated back into their forest after the death of their king and founder, Orephor. Rohan flourished while Gondor crumbled. The elves kept to themselves in their hidden valleys and vast forests, and began to fade into the myth and fables that circulated from men.

That's when the Stars are born.

Two stars, one for evening and one for dawn.

The Evenstar is the one that welcomed the night and its lights, the star that shines discreetly upon Arda, guiding lost souls through the plains of Middle Earth, to either their safety or their fate. The Morning Star is the iridescence that cut a swathe through the darkness of night, soft or otherwise, giving hope that a new day will come, it does not matter if the dawn is stained with red, a new day came, and with it, hope.

The Valar chose two elves, one from Imladris, the daughter of its lord. Fated to meet her true love for the price of immortality, to go through life and toil, to sadness and loss. Arwen Undomiel, the beloved Evenstar of her people. Loved by all, forgotten by none.

The Morning Star remained a tale of bed time stories amongst all. With the utmost exceptions of the elves in Mirkwood. He is destined for something far greater, but also far darker.

The star was a prince of Mirkwood. He was chosen when its trees were brighter than any light that could be produced by men, when they can still sing to the elves that often sat in their boughs. Then the prince was born, in the last ray of winter, where the first leaf of spring pushed from its branch. Their star, the elves all sang, and they honored him.

This is a story, a prophecy about the stars, about morning.

For the next thousand years, the prince grew. He became familiar with the bow and he soon became the best archer in all of Arda. The Valar crafted the two stars a jewel each. A spiraling thread woven into a leaf that cushioned a bright star for Evening. A piece of mithril etched around an arrow like shape, made by six green leaves that spelled the Morning's name.

The jewel of the Evenstar will eventually be given to a king, her love, as a reminder of the reason to fight. The gem for the Morning will be held as evidence, when he eventually becomes lost, for the wood-elves, for his father, to recognize their prince, even in a different form.

But peace is always a fragile thing, and soon a shadow cam to Greenwood, built itself a fortress in the south. Its evil began to poison its surroundings. The trees, the soil and eventually the land itself. The wood-elves fought back diligently, but could not hold back the shadow. They began to lose hope. For the next hundred odd years, the hope slipped through the hearts of the elves like flour form a sieve. Orcs and giant spiders began to cross their borders, keeping any outsiders away, but also trapping the elves in their beloved forest as well.

They looked to their prince, the Morning Star, for hope. He gave it to them, they all believed in him. They fought back with harder than ever before, the darkness wavered. The shadow was furious, and sought a way to destroy that precious hope.

He took the star away, twisted him to the shadow's own will, thinking to let him fight off his own people. The elves of Mirkwood were furious and attacked with even more vigor and strength. They finally drove the shadow away from their forest. But the cost was great, and the damage was done. Their beloved forests will never be the same again, and their beloved prince was never coming back.

This is the future that's set in stone. What happens after solely depended on the characters' choices. Life is merely a play; all the men are merely players, a very important play, where there are no rehearsals for the road ahead.

Speaking of plays, it would be a good idea to introduce you all to the main characters:

Crown prince of the Woodland Realm Mirkwood, the Morning Star of Arda. Legolas Thranduilion.

Agarlas Sardothien, one of the most feared and powerful beings in all of Middle earth, Sauron's Lieutenant.

They are one and the same. But which one will he choose. In the end.

* * *

_"This is merely a choice to make. To go back or not."_

_"Will you allow it?"_

_"Choices are merely illusions. In this world, there is either kill or be killed, simple as that."_

_"I understand."_

_"You do not remember anything."_

_"Why should I?"_

_"Indeed...What have you forgotten, was the better statement."_

_"Not a single thing, Master."_

* * *

**A/N: God what was I thinking when I started another piece of writing? I still have one to finish up, one to type up and one to get it going. Still I am obsessed with Lord of the Rings. Can't get enough of it. Aragorn will play a big role in this. **

**Translations: Agarlas ~ Blood leaf**

**Sardothien was from Celaena Sardothien, main character from the The Throne of Glass series. Also an assassin, a seriously good novel.  
**

**I love the Morning Star thing, got my inspiration from **The Stars of Arda Series. **Really good writer and story.**_  
_

**I need a beta. **

**Reviews are welcome.**

**Does anyone know how to scan something? I actually drew a picture of the Morning Star's necklace. How do I get it on here?**


	2. Chapter 2: Fangorn Forest

**Chapter One: **Fangorn Forest

**Warning: **Confusing words. Maybe OOC of a lot of people. Bad-ass Legolas killing people left right and center. May contain traces of: a lot of blood, Sindarin, irregular updates, idiotic author notes, confusing plot lines. Major spoilers from The Two Towers on-wards.

**Disclaimers see author's profile page.**

* * *

"Hello, Gandalf the White."

The blinding light dissipated immediately, snuffed out like a candle light out in a stormy night. Gandalf's hand instantly went around his staff, slightly raised to ward off whatever distinguished his light he used to cloak himself not a moment ago. The Wizard caught sight of the two tresses of midnight black hair flowing out from a helmet that hid only the eyes of his caller. Gandalf let out a relieved breath, but does not lower his staff. The elf is dangerous even in a diplomatic situation.

"Hello Gandalf, glad to see you have returned." The moving shadows melted away when their master snapped his hands. Two long locks of midnight extended from the helmet that hid the startling silver blue eyes that the famous lost prince possess. Loose armor. Twin white knives and a quiver of arrows sat on his back. A black long bow lay in his fingers.

"Hello to you too Agarlas. You are on your way to Fangorn as well?" the old wizard asked. Hands slightly shaking. One never knows what you can receive from an unpredictable being such as this.

"The Dark Lord asked me to verify the condition of Saruman in Orthanc." His mouth twitched slightly to show his sensitivity about the traitorous wizard. He will not openly disregard a servant to Sauron, but he shows his disgust blatant enough, if the piles of orc patrols Gandalf has seen in Mirkwood was of any indication.

"I'm thinking of visiting the forest as well," hopefully the lieutenant won't recognize the white lie.

"You are to wake up the Ents, correct?"

"That is not my intention."

"Most could never decipher your riddles that mark your intention Gandalf, nor do you speak them for the fear of the dark solving your riddles." Agarlas bit back a smile, even though he doubts the now White Wizard could see it in the heavy shadows that follow his commands to the every ends.

"Saruman…" Gandalf started, trying to get as many information as possible through the lieutenant, temporarily forgetting the other dozen or so times that attempts have went. Straight downhill and very painful.

Agarlas' face visibly shifted into a grimace before turning into a small smirk. "I am forbidden to tell the Dark Lord's plans to any of his enemies. I am quite sure you are aware. Or has rebirth clogged your memories?" the amusement was evident on the dark elf's features, even if the topic could potentially lead to the survival or the extinction of Arda.

"Go back while you still can Gandalf. Men are stubborn and foolish creatures that can never be trusted. The path ahead of you is bathed in blood." the grimace was back again as if reliving one of the less found memories.

"I will not abandon men to the fate more painful than death," the White Wizard's tone was soft, yet vehement.

The elf nodded mutely, maybe grateful that at least one being had not left Middle Earth to its fate. "Then travel to Rohan and break the spell casted on its king. Beware of Orthanc and its army."

"What journey awaits you?" he is concerned, oddly.

"I am not going outside of my boundaries. I am not disobeying. You need not worry about the Ents. They are going to wake, after all." A rustling of leaves, slender fingers found its holdings on the bark of a thick oak. Legs prepared to leap, the shadows eagerly awaiting their master's commands, wanting nothing more than to please.

"Farewell Gandalf. I've got a lot of orcs to kill." The shadows wrapped around the elf, effectively cloaking him back to their safety of night. He turned his head before the shadows spread, "Hobbits are amazing creatures."

Gandalf listened to the oak tree's disappointed sigh when the elf's hold was gone. He straightened his robes and prepared for the rocky lofty words ahead, for Rohan, for Fangorn, and eventually, for Gondor. It meant a lot of things when it was Agarlas that started the conversation. Good and bad. Terrible, but great things. Which side was the ultimate question.

"Until next time, Legolas." He hoped the elf was out of ear shot. The new body has not yet forgotten the scars from the last time he said the elf's true name. An idiotic secret, but one he is sworn into keeping.

Elves can be such strange creatures. There is no predicating was this elf would do.

* * *

"Did we lose him? I think we lost him," Legolas took aim, pulled back his arrows and let loose. Its trajectory halted by the thick skull of the orc, the two hobbits let out a startled scream. Their efforts at crawling away renewed at the dark bubbly presence not too far away.

"Do not fear, I am an elf," he called out. He watched the fear melt away from their faces as he allowed the shadows to uncoil around his delicate ear points.

The hobbit with the curly hair took a step forward and spoke up, "Thank you, Master Elf, for saving us. I'm Merry. This is my cousin, Pippin. We are from the Shire."

He nodded; satisfied that he got the right ones, "Come, young hobbits, it is not safe so near to the edge of the woods. I would like to meet someone."

"Ah, young one, I heard you've entered the wood once again," a familiar drawn out voice came from behind him. The two hobbits gasped in fear as their eyes stared upwards.

Legolas smiled softly, remembering the voice from the last time he was in Fangorn Forest. He turned around. "Treebeard, greetings," he said to the tall, stiff-limbed Ent. "_Nae saian luume_," he said in his native tongue. "Has it really?" Treebeard asked before he saw the hobbits. He suddenly glared at them. "Orcs!" he growled.

Legolas quickly stepped in front of the hobbits and held out his hand to the Ent. "Not orcs, Treebeard. They are hobbits of the Shire, leagues northeast from here."

"Hobbits? Never heard of a hobbit before. Sounds like orc mischief to me."

He felt the hobbits huddle closer to him, fearful of the talking tree's wrath. "Treebeard, trust me. They are not orcs, but hobbits. I'm not surprise you never heard of them. They hardly ever travel out of the comfort of their Shire. To see one away from their home is rather rare. They are a peaceful, simple creature," Legolas tried to reassure. "They are not here to harm the woods, but to take sanctuary. Will you grant them refuge, my friend?"

Treebeard rocked back in thought. "Umm…I'll let the White Wizard decide their fate."

Legolas blinked in surprise and he heard one of the hobbits whisper, "Saruman" in horror. "I see, a great Ent such as you should have heard a long time ago. I met him on the way here, he is no longer gray. He became white to help where Saruman would not."

Treebeard nodded and the elf turned to the two hobbits. "I want you to go with Treebeard. I trust him. He will not lead you astray. A great Ent such as him will never side with the Wizard that no longer cares for trees and their voices."

Pippin gave him a wide-eye look. "You're not going with us, Master elf?"

Legolas sighed and shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Pippin. I have much more dangerous things to do. I will let you continue your quest in peace."

Merry nodded with large eyes. "We understand."

Legolas chuckled. He glanced up at the Ent. "Treebeard will know how to reach me." He gave the hobbits a gentle smile. "I will remain within the country of Rohan for an unforeseen amount of time. It depends on how long I rest. Safe journey."

"Goodbye, and thank you," Merry said before climbing on the offered limb of the Ent. Pippin waved to him before following his cousin.

"Um, excuse me Master Elf, if you don't mind me asking, what is your name?" Pippin called.

He paused in his steps, grasping his bow tighter in fear of letting the hobbits see his trembling hands. He could fell the raised eyebrow and the expectations of the old Ent radiating outwards in tumbling waves.

"You must swear you will never tell a single soul, alive or otherwise."

A feat of confusion passed over both hobbit's faces. Even with his back to him, Legolas couold detect the wondrous smile on the Ent's features, obviously hiding between his beard.

He took a deep breath, knowing full well he punishments the Dark Lord will no doubt dealt him when he gets back to the Black Gates of Mordor.

"I'm Legolas, Legolas Thranduilion."

* * *

**A/N: The game is finally starting! This chapter is not really one of my best chapters, but I hate not updating even more.**

**Clearing something up: Gandalf knows who Agarlas is, around the quest for Erebor. I had this all paned out, don't worry. Legolas' helmet was like Zero's helmet chopped in half, leaving only the upper part. Less flashy of course. Just google Zero's helmet and choose the black and purple one.**

**Translation: _Nae saian luume - It's been too long_**

**I need a beta. **

**Reviews are welcome.**

**Does anyone know how to scan something? I actually drew a picture of the Morning Star's necklace. How do I get it on here?**


	3. Chapter 3: Orthanc Tower

**Chapter Two: **Orthanc Tower

**Warning: **Confusing words. Maybe OOC of a lot of people. Bad-ass Legolas killing people left right and center. May contain traces of: a lot of blood, Sindarin, irregular updates, idiotic author notes, confusing plot lines. Major spoilers from The Two Towers on-wards.

**Disclaimers see author's profile page.**

* * *

_Never disobey my orders._

_Never hinder the movement of darkness._

_Never directly harm your master._

_Never halt your killing blade._

_The four testaments ingrained my head as I first took on the sight of the dark lord in all its glory. I couldn't make the blood red words disappear, couldn't shave them off my mind no matter how much I strained. I couldn't even fight back, to move, to somehow block the commands using my limbs. I couldn't do anything. For the first time in more than a thousand years, I was helpless. The voice painfully reverberated in my skull, etching its words deeply into my brain, and I knew I would never be able to fight that command._

_A touch of cold icy hand on my neck, I shivered involuntarily. The hand was strangely comforting, like the comfort ada would bring when we used to sit in mother's private gardens. The bright sun, the singing trees and the soft grass for company. It felt like a life time ago._

_"Never forget."_

_Confusion. How could I forget when they are tied to me like steel puppet strings, shackling my limbs, controlling my every move. He is he master with the thread. I'm only the doll that goes wherever the string leads._

_"Never forget who you are."_

_I could no longer decipher sentence from command. Every word that comes his mouth meant order. An order I must obey, or face the heated consequences. As if the brutal training was anything to go by. The day I was taken, captured because I ventured a little too close to the dark fortress._

_I was too close…_

_"Who am I?"_

_Who am I really? Am I the Morning Star that pulls the elves of Mirkwood to hope, to light, away from the darkness that threatened to take my home? The brave prince that goes with each patrol to claim back Mirkwood inch by inch? The prince that swore to his father that he would use his arrows and knives to cleanse the forest of foul before making it Greenwood again? No matter how much I try, I could never find that prince anywhere inside me anymore._

_The bright necklace that once symbolizes difference was now no more than a stolen relic._

_Darkness has taken root inside me. And it does not want to leave._

_"Who am I?"_

_Or am I the weapon that Sauron has so painstakingly crafted. Teaching. Shaping a mold until it was to his liking. Adding layer upon layer, pain after pain, until Legolas Thranduilion was buried deep under levels of Agarlas Sardothien, that no one, not even myself, can find Legolas again._

_"Legolas and Agarlas, you are both. But you can only be one." A smile, warm…somehow. From him._

_"Will you?..." Panic, uncertainty, desperation, fear. All mingling together into a tight coil. My heart nearly stops. Please, please don't force me. Please._

_A soft chuckle, still warm, like the little torch of fire light that he would allow if he is pleased with me that day, to levitate the cell's darkness, just for one night. "That will be your choice. You may choose. I will not interfere."_

_I look up, and there is a light in his blood red eyes. The same eyes that I dreaded to see each morning. The same light that always appear in ada's eyes whenever I achieved something remarkable. A light of pride, but also resignation. As if sad that I grew further and further away._

_A swish of cloaks and long midnight hair and he is on the other side of the hall. A pale hand already opening the thick wooden door. "Come Agarlas, we have procrastinated enough." He shot me a glare, red eyes narrowing._

_For the first time in seemingly forever, I don't flinch at the mention of that name. I stood and ran to keep up with him before he shuts the door. Sauron never can and never will go back on his words, even if he knows he is going to fail._

_I have a choice. I can choose._

* * *

_Orthanc was the black **impenetrable** tower of Isengard built by the Dúnedain. By the Great Years and the War of the Ring it was possessed by the wizard Saruman. It stood in the center of the Ring of Isengard, great defensive walls fortified by the early Gondorians.  
_

"We cannot let the Wild Men go past Westfold, they'd be too vulnerable. Pull them back."

"Yes, Lord"

The White Wizard Saruman pinched the bridge of his nose, once in a while the sharp nails on his crooked fingers would jab into his face. He welcomed the short pain, finding it refreshing and helps to focus his tired mind.

"If you are so tired and inefficient, maybe I should ask Him to find someone else. More worthy to rule his army."

Saruman whipped around at this, his ebony staff gripping tightly in his hands. The voice is soft, clear and wasn't an orc's, more like an elf's. But there is no way in Arda that an _elf _could sneak into Orthanc. There is no elven assassin. Well, there is one place that house one... Curses and spells already on his lips before he saw the shadow move. And a figure stepping out of the pool just confirmed his suspicions._  
_

"Hello Saruman, a long time," A small smirk graced his lips. Thin pale fingers caressed the long black bow, tracing over its intricate designs that were often carved into place by Legolas himself . His posture was stiff, as if trying to appear nonchalant. The Wizard could practically see the shadows' anxious calls to their master, and the gleeful cackles some of them inserted in between cries of worries.

Sauron was once a Maia like himself, so he searched far and wide for books that would expand his knowledge and with knowledge, came power. It was no wonder if the lieutenant has this knowledge, even is he doesn't, there is still the magic that is unique to the elven kind to worry about.

"It has been quite some time since you last visited Isengard," He confirmed the statement and clutched his staff tighter. If the Dark Lord has sent his personal assassin to kill the wizard, Saruman would not go down without a fight.

It was a well known fact that Sauron's trusted lieutenant is an elf. But why is an elf doing sauron's bidding was anybody's guesses. It was impossible for a creature with so much light to have survived to be trained in the dark depths of Mordor.

"I have news, something that you unfortunately, over looked." He clutched his staff even tighter, if that was possible. "The White Wizard approaches to Rohan, to fill the place in which you abandoned Saruman." The last helf an edge of bite, as if scolding and hating the traitorous wizard for abandoning his post that was given by the Valar themselves, along with his power.

As if sensing their master's bitter tone, coiled around the 'elf' possessively, ready to attack whomever that caused their Master's annoyance. Saruman felt thousands of eyes fixed upon him. Sending shivers down his spine. Legolas just stood there, obviously enjoying the wizard's discomfort, a pale hand gently stroked the shadows, half comforting and half ordering them to calm down. To not attack the staff wielder, _It is not his time yet._

He leans close, gathering up the shadows around himself like a cloak and a shroud, "Do not fail the Dark Lord, Saruman. Destroy Rohan. If not, I will destroy _you!" _He flicked his wrist and the shades went over his head like a cloak, and he was gone, leaving nothing behind save for a throwing dagger on the floor, so well hidden in the dark that if not for the best of the Dunedains, none can find it; and that suffocating coldness he received long ago in places foul as Orthanc that followed him wherever he goes.

Saruman hurried out the room and down the hall, not wanting to fell the wrath of either Sauron his lieutenant will no doubt bring the next time he visits.

"Work the fernaces day and night, burn down the Forest of Fangorn if you must, build me an army worthy of Mordor!"

* * *

_"Please!" He screamed once again, but the guards outside had either left the room or were ignoring him. The darkness around Legolas was eating him alive. Evil surrounded him and bore into his flesh. The elf let out a whimper of defeat, and crawled over to the side of his cell, where a tiny stream of light came through an air hole. Legolas curled up and hugged his knees, then closed his eyes, trying to make the darkness and evil disappear._

_I am in Mirkwood, and it is night. The elf told himself. The stars are hidden by clouds, that is why it is so dark._

_No, a voice in his head said, it is dark because you are in an evil place. You are with evil itself. You are evil, Legolas._

_"No!" The prince cried out. "Leave me alone! Please, just go away."_

_I will never go away, Legolas. I am in you. I am the darkness in you, trying to escape._

_"NO!" Legolas screamed, and his eyes flew open. He grabbed and clawed madly at the door to his cell, and screamed until his throat went dry. Slowly, the darkness overtook him, and he fainted into a nightmare-filled reverie._

* * *

_The forest are burning._ He acknowledged this with tear filled eyes. He could rip a village into a million pieces without batting an eyelash, but he still felt the pain of the trees. Sauron had more than once told him to not answer the tree's pleas and questions. After a couple of decades, he could block out the voices, but if he gets even the slimest of chances to respond, he would do anything and everything to help.

He would not let his tears fall. He has learned long ago to contain them, keep them above ground. He learned those lessons the hard way, and nothing could make him experience it again. Where each tears counts as hours in the dark. _Forgive me._

If the Hobbits are unsuccessful in convincing the Ents to participate in the oncoming war, then this atrocity by that traitor most definitely will. If the half-lings were as quick witted as he thought them to be, they will convince Treebeard to go South.

He is not going outside of the orders set forth when he first came before the Dark Lord. If he found a way to disobey them... He would probably be a pile of ashes by now.

With a quick glance back at the burning woods. He allowed himself a satisfied but melancholic smile, and disappeared through the darkness the trees kindly provided for him. The trees, no matter where, will always remember the prince of the elves that could hear and communicate them best, the last of the Royal bloodline. They will always protect the Prince, they will keep his secrets until he allowed them to be spilled.

To Rohan... Where the shadows and darkness reign free. To Rohan... Where the first step to destroy mankind will commence. To Rohan, to Gondor, to Elessar.

To another crossroad, where a single man's actions may result in victory, to doom to defeat.

No matter the choices set forth by disappointing men, he will never go back to the dark.

_Do you still remember me? After all this time? Estel..._

* * *

**A/N: The game is finally starting! This chapter is not really one of my best chapters, but I hate not updating even more. And that is stretching it. ****Everything I write on here will be of use to the plot in some way or another, so please, bear with me.**

**About the first person part of the story, I suck at first person to a degree of nastiness that deserves to cast into the fire of Mount Doom. I find the first person perspective a bit morbid at times and very hard to write but is just so much more exciting.**

**English is not my first language, since I lived in China for 12 years. I apologize for any mistakes in grammar, punctuation and the tenses category.**

**Clearing something up: Legolas is not willingly going to be Sauron's lieutenant at all! He is just glad that he could not be Agarlas in the not-so-soon future that he complies and goes along with it. Bidding one's time I guess. The elf can slaughter a whole village in ten minutes with a pair of chopsticks, so yeah, Saruman will be scared. If the Dark Lord Sauron captured you and you are the hope and light and a dangerous asset, and you are an elf, I think what I've written is quite mild, it happened before he was brought to Sauron and the testament thing.**

**I need a beta. ****Reviews are welcome.**

**Why does whenever I write _Dark Lord,_ I instantaneously think of Voldemort?**

**Updates will be soon be irregular.**


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